People Lie
by S3C
Summary: When Enjolras' spirits drop, Grantaire is there to pick them up again. This is my first fic ever, feedback much appreciated. I don't know what the ratings mean, so i just guessed, sorry (If someone could tell me that would be really really awesome)


People Lie

Enjolras felt his head slam into the table in the corner of the Café Musain. He could feel hot tears dripping from his eyes. Enjolras never cried. But he didn't care. There was no-one to see him anyway. Despite the fact he had scheduled a meeting for 2pm that day, but no-one had shown up. He had waited

3pm

4pm

5pm

And still, no-one came. At 5 o'clock, he began to think. He broke down and analysed every part of their plan, and when he didn't like what he saw, he pieced it back together, and repeated the process. Still, the result was negative. There was no way they could ever win the battle they had dedicated their lives to. Their numbers were too few, and the odds were too great.

His tantalizing speeches behind him, he wept like a child, for fear of his life, the lives of his friends and the cause he had backed so strongly. To have a free France. Their goals could never be reached! In despair, Enjolras bashed his head over and over on the hard, wooden table, the tracks his tears had made down his soft cheeks burning with a fiery passion as deep as he felt.

They were going to fail.

He could almost picture it now, his friends, dead, lying in the streets. Unmoving. Unseeing. Dead.

And he would be the one who put them there. He was to blame, leading them into a dead end with his mesmerising words. Enjolras stared at his book, his beloved history book, from which he had read to his friends all those times. Overcome in a moment of grief and anger at his blindness, he grabbed the misleading article and slammed it into the opposite wall. Sinking to his knees, he lay on the floor, his whole body wracked with sobs. They were going to fail.

"Enj?" Grantiare's head popped up over the railings. The omnipresent beer bottle in his hand fell to the floor with a large clatter as he saw his friend spasming on the floor. He ran to his side, concern written all over his face.  
"I heard something go bang up here, I was having a drink and I came to see what the matter was!" He pulled his friend onto his lap and hugged him to his chest. "What's wrong, Enj? What's wrong?" His voice was desperate and cracked. It disturbed him greatly to see his strong, powerful leader so broken, weak and exposed.  
"We're going to fail." He whispered, his deep blue eyes staring up at Grantaire and looking for all the world like a tiny, lost, child.  
"What! No!" Grantaire looked astounded; he could barely believe his ears. "But what you said, all of it, we can't lose. That's what you said, Enj!"  
"I lied. That's what people do!" His anger burst through, he jumped up violently and stared down at his friend with wild eyes. "PEOPLE LIE, GRANTAIRE! PEOPLE LIE. PEOPLE CHEAT. PEOPLE _DIE_! And that's what's going to happen to us." His voice was lower than a whisper as he crumpled from the inside, and ended up on the floor again. Grantaire, trying to pretend he wasn't hurt by Enjolras' sharp tongue, lay beside his friend. He turned onto his side and put his hand on his shoulder.  
"But people also do good, Enj. They love and they give and they care. They are charitable, and honest and merely misguided. No-one is purely evil, Enj." As he spoke, Grantaire felt tears spill over and stream down his face, carving little rivers in the doughy valley of his drunken face. Yet, for once in his life, Grantaire made more sense than he ever had before, drunk or not. "And people can understand, and appreciate and above all they can learn from their mistakes!" Grantaire forced a smile onto his lips. "And people can smile. Smile for me, Enj. Will you do that for me?" He felt his lips quiver, and another onslaught of tears washed down his face. "Smile."

Enjolras managed a weak attempt at a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Grantaire pulled him in for another hug. He knew if Enjolras was in control of himself, he would never have accepted it, but he wasn't, so Grantaire seized his chance, trying not to let his heart rate quicken, even though his skin burned as Enjolras' head nestled in the crook of his neck.  
"No –one came, R." Enjolras whimpered.  
"What?" Grantaire asked in confusion, pulling back to see his friend's face.  
"No-one came to the meeting."  
Grantaire laughed softly. "Oh, Enj. The meeting is tomorrow!" His heart ached for the distress he had accidently caused his friend, so he wrapped his arms round him and pulled him in tighter.  
"Oh." Came the reply, soft and wet, breathed into Grantaire's neck.

Gently, Grantaire rocked back and forth until he felt tiny snores reverberating around Enjolras' body. He pulled out of the hug and smiled at the celestial peace that covered the once puce face. He wiped away the remnants of a tear, as he picked up the larger man with a certain drunken ease. He draped him over his shoulder, ignoring the prickle of his skin, and carried Enjolras lovingly, from the café back to his apartment. Once inside, he lay him down on his bed, pulled the sheets around him and stood over him for a moment, staring at his handsome face, wishing. Just wishing. But he dismissed the thought as quickly as it had begun, and, after pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, left, thoroughly regretting his decision, but knowing he had made the right one.


End file.
